


The Top Floor

by LEVIATTACKS



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - CEO & Secretary, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Boss/Employee Relationship, CEO Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Drama, F/M, LEVI IS A DICK A HUGE DICK, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) - Freeform, Levi is Bad At Feelings (Shingeki no Kyojin), Levi is In Denial (Shingeki no Kyojin), Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Protective Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Reader-Insert, Rich Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Romance, Work In Progress, Written for my own satisfaction because CEO AU'S make my heart flutter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28992666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEVIATTACKS/pseuds/LEVIATTACKS
Summary: Levi Ackerman, CEO of Ackerman and Co - exact in the way he negotiates, precise in his decision making and his business plans are known to be nothing short of meticulous. However, this one man show can not continue for much longer. The workload only increases day by day but when he finds every single secretary sent his way insufferable and not up to his standards problems arise. That is until he sets his eyes on you, and he supposes you'll be adequate enough for the job.
Relationships: Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	The Top Floor

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read my first fic here :') i intend for it to be a long one and i hope you enjoy it. i would like to add that i really hate using Y/N or _____ so the main character will simply use the name Eden Read i have no other way of addressing them and Y/N makes me physically cringe i can't use it without grimacing GODDD i hate it sm

You have this tradition, where you'll jump three times before a job interview. It's a stupid tradition. A tradition only you probably follow, (Yes, even when you wear heels) but it is nonetheless a tradition and you insist to stick by it.

It just so happens to be another jumping in heels kind of day – A Wednesday if you really want the technicalities and you are once again jumping despite the blisters forming at the back of your ankle. This is the last job interview you have lined up for today and you can only hope it goes well.

It's not as if your previous interviews today were horrible but you know you don't stand out. Not in this bustling city. Hell, you'd be lucky to get a job as a barista let alone a secretary. Even brewing a coffee was competitive here - You would like to clarify that baristas are amazing people and help many inhabitants of the city get through the struggles of working non-stop. Without them you would be very much dead.

Stepping through the dead leaves which coat the concrete surface below your feet the hues of brown and orange intermingle. Paying close attention to the way the recent downpour of rain has left them moist you inhale the smell and automatically feel fresh faced. Oddly, it smells of home, the scent and the way the earthy colours stare back at you, it's enough for your heart to soften. Your mind trails to the fact that everything is so busy down here. You miss your small town up North. There are no flowing rivers or hilly mountains around, the air doesn't feel the same in the city either it weirdly reminds you of metal. Metallic with a smokey after scent, you aren't the biggest fan of it. Somehow it makes you feel claustrophobic in a way.

But, this moment with these leaves is the closest you've got to feeling like you're back home. It feels so right.

You wouldn't say you hate the city, after all moving gave you more freedom and if the price of freedom is occasionally yearning to hike and not enjoying the air as much, it isn't that bad.

City life takes time to adjust to especially when you're from the country. That's what everyone told you when you made the big move.

Well, after two years of adjusting you can confidently say that you're back at square one. Times feel as if they've reverted back to when you had first stepped foot into the bustling streets. The metropolis ahead of you filled you with excitement back then but now you feel worn out just being here.

Just recently being fired from your long time place of work ; Brauner's is not the way you wanted to start the new year but it had unfortunately played out that way.

You had been defending a co-worker from blatant sexism in the workplace. A bitter taste fills your mouth thinking about it but you shake your head. No need wasting your time thinking about the past, moving forward and getting a job is your priority.

The clicks of your heels help you keep some sort of momentum when you walk through the spotlessly cleaned glass doors of Ackerman & Co. First glance in and it reminds you of a shark tank, little groups huddled in corners discussing and exchanging documents with poise.

The employees remind you of binary numbers. Serious, robotic and there's a strong yet invisible emanation, one which specifically feels domineering.

Wiping your sweaty palms against your pencil skirt you take a gulp from your water bottle. Your throat feels dry and despite many attempts trying to fix it, it's to your dismay that it fails. Your hands are somehow still as clammy as they were on the walk here.

Eyes landing on the sleek black heels of an employee you gnaw at your lips thinking about your own, they are far beyond worn out. _This won't be able to fly by as dress code appropriate_ you think to yourself. Wincing, you decide to suck it up. There's nothing you can do about it whether you like it or not.

With black permanent marker in hand the night before, you had tried your best to fill in the scuff marks and tears which were making themselves more apparent on the surface of your shoes. The task was carried out in a pathetic manner, you had been scrutinizing the details of your shoes and imagined a day where you would forget the bleek memory.

Gulping down another sip of water a deep breath follows and you try not to rattle yourself any further. Sitting down in one of the solid seats in the waiting room you heave a sigh. Despite being different from all these other people you are still similar.

The same air of intimidation is not shared but in its place is your determination and resolve. Those two would get you where you needed.

Having the credentials to apply here was an achievement in itself. To even be given a call back for an interview from this place? It seemed unbelievable at first, but you're proud you've done that at least.

Honestly, it makes sense why the nerves are definitely getting to you because this is by far one of the most difficult interviews you will have to face. More cons rather than pros when applying made you feel uneasy at first but you still pushed your nerves to the side and applied.

A person not willing to take risks is a person who fails to grow, that's what you had told yourself.

The most evident disadvantage of this particular interview would be the man who you applied to work under: The notorious CEO of the Ackerman group. You doubt he himself would be conducting the interviews because let's face it he is a busy man, that thought alone allows you to relax into your seat ever so slightly. Leaning back into the plush material of the leather behind you your mind wanders back to him which is out of the ordinary. You didn't do this at any other interview.

Then again, those businesses are child's play next to Ackerman's domain. His name is known around these parts, however that may have something to do with you working in the business and marketing sector for quite some time now.

This paired with how his business empire established a great rivalry against Brauner's is probably why you're apprehensive about this certain interview.

But, one thing's for sure. If you're able to bag the job as Mr Ackerman's assistant then Reiner Braun, your stupid fuck of an ex-manager who just so happened to be Brauner's next heir would practically be rolling around on the floor of the main corporate office.

You want him to burn in anger as you swim in the benefits of a good pension plan and even better salary. He had fired you for no reason at all, this is the very least you could ask for.

Truthfully, the dreamlike salary and the companies employee protection policy are currently your only motivation.

Your mind drifts back to the thought of your potential new employer. Appearances of his at business conferences were few and far between from your memory at least.

Sure, you were able to remember the way he scanned the room for his rivals and you remember making eye contact with him. You also remember looking away as soon as you possibly could because of the way he met your eyes - with blunt refusal, he was a man devoid of any warmth.

He wasn't boring it's that speeches at business parties are not very telling of a person's character so currently as you sit in the reception of this skyscraper of a building you come to the conclusion that you really know nothing about him. Therefore, there is no reason to fear him or to be afraid.

Even if he's known to be ruthless, mean spirited, and the "Spawn of Satan" - you feel that is all an exaggeration.

You aren't one to judge books by their covers, nor their reputations. Years of being judged for being from a working class family taught you that. _God, you really are trying to be optimistic even pulling out the working class family line to reassure yourself???_ But in truth for all you know he could be a huge misunderstood bear of a man. You know? Those guys who remind you of bears? Not because of their physique or anything.

Explaining it is difficult but maybe he was that sort of man. Hard on the outside but soft on the inside. No, is that more like a turtle or tortoise man? Because they have shells?

Maybe he likes to bake or at the very least occasionally goes out of his way to purchase confectioneries to deal with a hidden sweet tooth. Imagining someone you find intimidating trying to satisfy a sweet tooth has always been a life saver for you.

As soon as you're done thinking of it you can no longer find that person unapproachable because in your head they're a softie with a love for Victoria sponge cake and shortbread biscui-

Your train of thought is abruptly cut off when you hear a loud series of thumps. Raising your brows you lean forwards but try to not make your curiosity obvious. Seconds pass and a girl around your age rushes out of the elevator, you can hear the muffle of a sob escape from her mouth and she seems distraught. You frown, you're assuming she's been fired, but there is the absence of her moving box, usually employees would take their belongings with them.

You only shift your sights to the empty space between her hands for a matter of a second but that is more than enough time for the woman to haphazardly trip over her rapidly moving legs.

Looking around, you see that the receptionist doesn't bat an eye nor do the other employees - Damn, everyone in business just has to be cold and self-seeking.

You survey the area once again hoping you don't have to be the person to approach her, because you know comforting people is not your strongest strength. If it were then you would have studied Psychology like your sister had and may have become a children's psychologist. But alas, Anyone with a Masters in Business such as yourself has a high probability of not being the best at emotional support and you can back up that you are not the person for that.

You get up to your feet and approach her, just as you're about to offer her your hand she snaps her head in your direction. _Oh no,_ Tear stained face and all you feel awful. It reminds you of the day Braun that ass approached your cubicle and told you to pack your belongings up for "disorderly conduct" and "defying the orders of higher ups".

His hideous smirk is still ingrained in your memory. _Unfortunately._

"Are you here for the secretary position?" You suddenly feel nervous but meekly nod your head in response. "Because that man is fucking crazy." she spits out after your confirmation. You note that she sounds more agitated rather than upset but she keeps her head downcast probably embarrassed that she's fell to the floor.

Feeling sympathetic your mouth moves on its own. "Take my hand, get up." At the sound of a your voice, she looks up again. You give her a small smile, cheeks bunching up, curled side pieces of your hair falling in front of your eyes.

Little does she know you're internally screaming at yourself. You promised yourself earlier this week to stop caring for others if it wasn't necessary. Being nice would not aid you in job seeking, but here you are helping your competition.

Reluctantly she takes your hand and you help her up. "He ripped me to shreds for no reason." she continues to talk.

The unnamed woman seethes. "He told me to remake his tea seven times because he couldn't choose which tea bag he wanted." her scowl only grows deeper but your interest in this one sided conversation does the opposite.

"Part of the interview is to? Make him tea?" you ask awkwardly. Realization settles in.

So...the interview really is with him. So much for reassuring yourself that you wouldn't have to make direct contact with the man himself for some time.

"Yes. He chewed me out for not making it right. Which, I did make it right, I know I did. Sugar, tea bag, boiling water, milk. I don't know what else I was meant to do." She's rambling now and to be honest now you want to mentally prepare yourself for this interview now, you've engaged in enough polite gossip and idle chit chat.

"Miss Read?" The receptionist at the front desk calls out your name.

_Stupendous._

Guess there's no time for any sort of mental prep. It's time for your escape.

You stroke the girl's hand in yours and offer her a polite smile, tucking your hair behind the backs of your ears you hurriedly mutter a "That sounds unfortunate but I must get going now." whilst flailing your arms around ever so slightly.

Masking panic, is not a skill of yours, but you'll work on it - Noted.

Nervously approaching the front desk the ginger behind the counter doesn't even glance at you as she aggressively taps away at her keyboard.

"Mr Ackerman will see you now. The top floor, you'll know what room it is when you get there." You give her a nod, you don't know if she sees it because she's so absorbed in her work but that's the least of your worries.

It may be wishful thinking but you tell yourself that you're going to ace this interview that's the mantra you repeat in your head as you step inside the elevator.

___________________

It only takes a matter of seconds for you to want to take back what you just said.

As soon as you walk through the heavy oak door of his office you're confused. Looking around the entire room you don't see him.

The chair behind his desk is vacant. Peeking around the room, under the table now, still nowhere.

Wrong room?

No way, his name plate is sat innocently atop his desk. In bold letters it reads — **_LEVI ACKERMAN._**

The scenario feels very suspicious to you. You know there's something you're either meant to do or meant to not do. So, you deliberately avoid touching anything and simply sit in the chair facing his desk.

Eyes travelling around the expanses of his office you note it's minimal, incredibly clean and smells strongly of bleach. The scent burns your nostrils and you feel them flare up. Mouth twisting into an unreadable expression you find yourself slowly coping with the smell. After some time it's not as noticeable and you begin to steady your breathing.

Hands clap slowly behind you almost in a mocking fashion. Despite you doing the correct thing waves of nervousness make their presence clear in the pits of your stomach.

You turn around to face him but your mouth nearly hangs open seeing him this close in person. A gaze as cold as ice stares you down."I hate people touching what's mine." He gives you a once over probably checking if your attire is work appropriate. "You're the second person to pass that stage." You guess the first would be the girl you ran into today but little does he know that he's given you an ego boost. It seems you have no competition as of right now seeing as she miserably failed the last hurdle.

You turn and close your eyes knowingly as a smile forms on your face, you knew it.

Promptly removing any traces of the smile ever even being there you turn back around to see a distant looking Mr Ackerman.

As soon as your confidence had grown Levi chose to speak again.

"Those are unspeakable excuses for shoes, Tch." He clicks his tongue and is clearly irked by your disregard but really It's not like you could make professional attire any cheaper.

You both sit in an uncomfortable silence for five minutes, maybe more than that maybe less, you're not sure.

The concept of time really is hard to measure when a specific raven haired CEO is glowering in your direction. If he were anyone else you would face him with a beaming smile but he is not someone else he's Mr Ackerman.

You can virtually sense the presence of his frown just by the grunt he makes as he lowers himself into his comfortably padded chair. It's the type that spins around and if you were allowed to you would have spun him around at such a high-speed he wouldn't be able to even fathom the thought of speaking.

Are you meant to tolerate this death stare every day?

You're ignoring his very obvious intimidation tactics because you want to give the impression of someone unbothered - though you were quite bothered, but letting him in on that would be of no gain and you would reap no rewards from it.

One of his legs makes its way to cross over the other and you abruptly become aware of the gaping difference between the two of you. Loaded in cash, successful, intelligent, everything you want to be is in this man yet he looks so done with it all. You're not jealous but it does manage to piss you off.

He's probably thinking about how tatty and ragged your shoes are. Probably feels sorry that you have to walk in them, maybe even thinks you're ridiculous for walking through the doors of his office.

You want to leave because you feel minuscule in comparison now. Your filthy shoes are the type to make him the likes of himself want to stand meters away from you.

You're both worlds apart from each other.

You don't mean to let your anger show itself on your face but it must have done so because he makes it a point to audibly cough, you know it's a hushed warning.

It remains quiet for a few more seconds and then it all kick-starts.

Almost out of nowhere he begins to fire a round of questions your way. Just about managing to not stumble over all of your words you soon realize this is not the walk in the park you thought it would be.

Attempting to answer all of these ambiguous questions is testing your limits.

"If one day you were to forget my schedule what would do?" He shoots. "I wouldn't forget it in the first place Sir." you punctually reply.

He gives you a chilly look and offers you a bitter glare. Uh oh, not the answer he wanted.

"Ha ha." You inelegantly laugh trying to clear the air. "Well, I like to think I'm very capable but if human error were to occur I'd be sure to have an online copy of your schedule on hand at all times." You beg (You aren't sure who exactly you're begging maybe God) that the explanation will suffice.

It seems it does because he lets his gaze linger before nodding.

After a particularly tough round of questions he reaches a very obvious one and you quirk a brow up in confusion wondering why he even asks when your application is settled in his hands.

"Your Name?" he asks

"It's on my application." you inform him.

"You think I've read it?" he deadpans.

Choosing to not engage in an argument with the man you speak up it takes every fiber of your being to force a smile. "Eden Read, that's my name."

"Eden." He says it out loud as if it's some sort of foreign delicacy.

"It doesn't roll of the tongue pleasantly, you may see yourself out."

You sputter. Never in your life have you felt this humiliated. Of all the reasons at his disposal he picks your name.

You clench your teeth together and your molars grind against each other in annoyance. Is this about your footwear? Your name is much too trivial for him to care about.

Getting up you choose to not say a thing. There's no way you can change his mind and all you want right now is to go home.

"You failed." he bluntly announces.

You bite back your tongue trying to hold back but the words come flying out.

"I'm aware." Looking down at your shoes you feel your blisters rub up against the coarse insides of the heel and you burn up even more. "My shoes may not be up to your standards so you may see it fit to disregard my entire application."

At that statement he crosses his arms over his chest.

You pause and feel the regret roll out into your system but you resume. "Even announcing that you haven't done as much as read my application or even familiarize yourself with my name. There is however no need to rub it in. I do not desire the opportunity to work with someone such as yourself. If the condition of my shoes causes you to fret then I worry greatly for you."

You've said your piece but some unknown entity within you forces you to spit out the next line unprovoked "...As well as your company's future. Have a good day."

Oh god you've done it now, you had to make a prod at his company too. The regret is seeping into your pores and you feel tinges of red and pink advance through your skin inflaming it. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment but he can't see that when your back is turned away from him. And with all that said and done you walk out of his office.

Even though the devil on your left shoulder is coaxing you to slam the door you don't. Despite the anger still subsiding within your belly the guilt overcomes it and you choose to silently shut it.

Hearing it click shut you sigh heavily, your hot breath makes your cheeks slightly moist and you pat at your face with a folded tissue as you make your way back towards the elevator.

Well, that did not go down the way you wanted.

___________________

After the long day you've had you want nothing more than to soak in the bath and listen to your favourite podcast. It's what you deserve after this hellish week.

Your mother had heard about the fiasco at Brauner's recently - It's hard to hide anything from the woman let alone a job dismissal. That's likely the only reason you've managed to keep yourself afloat up until now.

But enough of borrowing money from her, you need a new job stat, you feel like a child again leeching off of her. She insists it's no worry at all but she's your mother of course she says that.

Lathering the surface of your legs with your fragrant rose oil and raspberry body wash your face crinkles in irritation. Being deep in thought is annoying you but it's not like your subconscious will stop anytime soon.

You can't keep up. It's a realization that should have been made a long time ago. Along the way you have become more lost until you've reached where you are now. A GPS or another person can no longer navigate you to your final destination.

You can lie and say you like it like that but you don't. This loneliness is swallowing you whole and the aching feeling in your heart makes you want to rip it out of your chest and let it bleed it out until no more blood is left. Your shaky hands begin to vibrate against your legs. You feel your eyes itch and burn.

You are such an idiot to throw your life away to the city.

At the sound of the word _"Murder"_ coming from your phone you jump.

A brief moment of silence and the smooth chatter coming from your phone carry on. Fuck, it was just your podcast.

You really need to stop spacing out.

Yearning for an immediate change of pace you think to change the subject of your thoughts.

Levi Ackerman, is the only topic you have right now.

He's so. You have no words. His ill-mannered, impolite, disdainful and unwanted appearance today has left an almost permanently sour expression etched into the features of your face.

The flippant remark he made about your shoes does make you angry but really deep down it just hurts you. Nobody should be at a disadvantage because of the shoes they wear on their feet.

They do not reflect your skill but you don't expect someone so high up the food chain such as him to understand.

You jump again, you seem to be finding yourself repeating that motion a lot these days. This time it's not because you've heard another mumble from your podcast.

It's the screeching ringtone of your phone. Someone's calling you.

Perfect, a call at the dead of nigh-

A callback? Perhaps?

You hurdle yourself over the bath tub and nearly slip. Fuck, fuck, fuck you need to pick that phone call up as soon as you can not break your neck at the next available moment.

Somehow through your panicked frenzy you get to your phone in time, pick it up and answer the call swiftly not bothering to actually see who it is that's calling you.

"Hello Eden Read here."

There's a faint buzzing at the other end of the line and an automated fake life insurance policy audio plays.

"Have you been involved in a road traffic accide-"

You clench your jaw and hang up.

Making your way back to the warm bath you take a stool out of the way so you can place your phone nearby in case you get another call but before you can even dip your leg into the warm water once again your phone's ringtone blares.

Picking it up with your slippery hands you're met with silence and your eyes narrow in displeasure. If this is a scam caller again. At that thought you finally direct your gaze to the caller ID but your eyes bulge out of their sockets - that's an exaggeration but it might as well be what happened because why on Earth is anyone from Ackerman & Co calling you at midnight.

"Miss Read." a familiar crisp voice flows through your speakers.

Is this Mr Ackerman?

"I have good news for you." he sounds like he's mourning. If he didn't want you he didn't have to hire you.

"You said I failed."

"..." He doesn't reply, maybe he doesn't think you're worthy of a reply, maybe he just doesn't care.

"You insulted my shoes." you egg him on.

"I'm aware." You can hear him huff and you imagine him running his slender hands through the dark strands of his hair. His index finger is probably flicking a particularly noticeable strand out of his line of vision as he awaits your response.

"This isn't a job offer. It's a test run." you can hear how he snarls in response. You're irking him now.

Thinking about how much you're relying on mother has been making you uncomfortable and telling her you've bagged a job here will make her happy. Even better is the reminder that Reiner Braun will be at your mercy mourning the loss he made when he fired you.

But you think about how this is the same man who made you feel inferior for wearing a worn out pair of heels. It was like the sight of your shoes would make him throw up.

"I've offered you a chance twice." he adds in pointedly.

He's actually only ever offered you a job once, being invited to the interview was not at the same level as being offered a job but you decide to not point out the detail.

Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek feeling the wet flesh. Weighing up the possibilities you come to terms with the fact that you need this job and more importantly you need the source of income it provides you with.

Settling back into the bath you dip a hand in to test the temperature then slowly plop yourself into the mixture of rose oil and raspberry, hints of vanilla make their way to your nostrils and you feel yourself relaxing again.

Taking one last breath in you contently sigh but then remember you're on call with him and hurriedly reply - you hope he didn't hear that.

"I accept. Thank you for taking the time to offer me this position." Trying to make your voice sound as sweet as possible you swear you hear him click his tongue.

Life has a way of being unexpected you guess because after that ungodly interview you're shocked you've walked out of this with a job.

The both of you run through the technicalities such as when you'll start, he decides that you'll start work in two days time. A Friday. You're to meet him at the front desk promptly at 9AM and he says the rest is up to you to figure out on the day.

As you conclude, the final bits and pieces of the exchange falling into place, you can feel he's about to hang up but to your surprise it seems like he's not yet concluded because he makes a move to strategically clear his throat.

 ** _"I would like to make you aware"_** _he sounds predatory with the low tone of his voice_ ** _"This won't be fun for you._** " _he promises darkly._

Your mouth is dry after he speaks, you blink wide eyed and with that menacing end to your exchange, he hangs up. Leaving you with even more unanswered question.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for giving the top floor a chance i’ll be sure to not disappoint woohooo  
> \+ comments keep me going so feel free to comment when and if you feel like it :D  
> if you'd like to read the story on wattpad you may read it there too!! my username is @LEVIATTACKS feel free to follow me there if you would like toooo  
> my creative writing skills have low-key deteriorated so i think i'll edit this story soon i'm publishing this on no sleep but idk i'll definitely make it better


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